


Invisible Elephants

by starlikeyou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 18:54:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2662724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlikeyou/pseuds/starlikeyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know how you know you’re in love, and she’s all you can think about and everything’s just lovely, because you feel happy?”<br/>Niall shakes his head, because he can’t think of anyone he always thinks about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invisible Elephants

**Author's Note:**

> Again! Sorry for the lack of ladies! Ladies are awesome. Plus, in case you can't tell, I suck at titles. This is just something I wrote because FEELS. Very small.

It's one thing to miss out stuff that's invisible, so tiny you can't see them without holding it close to your face, lost between endless lines of texts and chats and messages and calls. It's okay to overlook little things that are hidden, step on them; it's another thing entirely to ignore the skyscraper in front of you and keep walking. Niall doesn't see it even after he crashes.

He lets it get to the point where he thinks of Zayn when his favourite song comes on, puts it on loop until he feels a bit rubbish for doing it, then feels down because he wants to see Zayn; he misses Zayn and gets a rope of glitter across his face when he accidentally rubs it with his hand after tracing out his name in a sparkle-heart he sees at the store. It’s _creepy_. He’s not doing it consciously so when he looks at it in the mirror he has no idea how to wash it off. Then he gets a new favourite song, invites Zayn for dinner and plays it while they goof around, Niall making Zayn laugh so hard he cries, holding his stomach because  _it hurts, Nialler_ , and now this new favourite song reminds him of Zayn, too. 

In times he lets himself think about how wrong it is that he does things like watch Zayn talk to Louis for five whole minutes just because he was smiling (he smiles a lot at Louis), or takes every little thing he says and replays them in his head before he goes to sleeps, well. He doesn’t. Niall doesn’t think, figures it’s one-sided and harmless. He doesn’t _harm_ Zayn in any way, invade his privacy or steal his shirts. Zayn’s engaged and he spends more time with Niall in a week than he does with her in half a year. There’s not much of _want_ , either. He doesn’t think he’s ever going to want Zayn for himself, not because he’s a dude. He just wants to do tiny favours for him, make Zayn smile, beautiful Zayn who gets more shit than all of them, and Zayn lets him. He also does things for Niall. He lets his fingers curl into his waist, squeezing. He kisses Niall on the cheek, tells him he loves him at least thrice a day, holds his hand when they walk to the stage so he won’t get nervous. He pretends to be superheroes with him, climbs between his legs at night and snuggles with him when the day’s been rough with management and press and more press, and he doesn't look forward to it because Zayn's there, always there.

Niall should have seen the other end of the wall, at least. 

“I think I should break up with her.” Zayn whispers to him over dinner. The five of them are there, along with some other members of their management team, but the other three are invested. They're all dressed vaguely posh for Simon ('vaguely' because Harry's butterfly is almost completely out), who's flying in for a big emergency meeting and should be stomping through the front door any minute. Zayn looks remarkable, all cheekbones and eyelashes in a suit that he makes look not good enough for him to wear.

“Mate?” he asks, his hand reaching for Zayn’s. It lands on his thigh because Zayn shifts and looks at his lap. Louis’ yapping to no one in particular about the soggy fries. Harry may as well be asleep, but Liam seems to understand something is up and raises an eyebrow at Niall. Niall silently assures him that nothing is wrong.

“Been going like this for a while.” he admits. He brushes back the wisps of hair falling into his eyes with steady hands, but he swallows, pouts, and looks away.

Niall will never get why Zayn finds it difficult to be vulnerable around them after all this time, but he doesn’t question it, lets him take his time before he continues. “You know how you know you’re in love, and she’s all you can think about and everything’s just lovely, because you feel happy?”

Niall shakes his head, because he can’t think of anyone he always thinks about. Zayn licks his lips.

“It’s like, you can’t stop. And you don’t want to. You don’t _think_ , like, yeah, I’m going to be in love with her in one, two, three, go.” He aimlessly moves his fork around. Niall’s hungry but he listens to Zayn. “That’s what I’ve been doing like, since the engagement, and I don’t want that. I need to feel like, um, I don’t know.”

“Fire?” Niall offers. “Heat?”

“Yeah, that. I need that thrill.”

Niall hums. “But mate, don’t you like, rarely see her? Maybe you need to like.” He makes vague hand gestures that he hopes symbolize getting off.

“We skype.” Zayn says seriously, but he’s smirking. “We also did it like, two weeks ago.”

“Two weeks is a long time.” Niall says. “Call her over, get a room.”

Zayn laughs out loud at that. “ _Bro_.”

Niall smiles at him. “What, am I ridiculous?”

“You bloody are.” He picks up a napkin from the table to throw at him, but Niall pre-emptively closes his hands around Zayn’s, which is when he feels it.

Electric shock, figuratively throws him back in his seat, makes his smile fall, shatter at Zayn’s feet into pieces that look like mirrors. He sees himself in love with Zayn, doing everything he just said, and also sees how not good it is. He’s _lying_ to Zayn that he’s not in love with him.

“You okay?” Zayn asks, and his hand is still on the napkin, so he drops it awkwardly and clears his throat. “Stomach pains.” he announces. “Gotta flush it out.”

Zayn’s not even fazed by it, but Louis pretends to throw up. “God, Niall.”

He goes to the restroom with his head held up, even manages to throw a smile back at Zayn before he turns the corner, but he doesn’t make it all the way, and very nearly has a panic attack.

 

 

It’s not that after the electric events of that night, Niall feels guilty about how he’s in love with Zayn. He doesn’t really remember it after Zayn smears mayonnaise from his sub on Niall’s eyebrow as revenge for Louis dumping the fries on Zayn’s lap. In fact, he doesn’t remember until a month after, when they’re walking down a smaller, vibrant village in Madrid, just the two of them. Zayn hasn’t talked about Perrie at all, but they did spend most of that month together, Niall helping him forget by making him laugh even more than Louis did.

“Wanna buy that?” he asks him, pointing to the comic books hanging in front of a tiny store a bit ahead. Zayn wordlessly follows him inside and hooks his chin over his shoulder as he thumbs through the pages of one of them. The pictures are extra bright, and there are a bunch of typos of the dialogue, but Zayn points to one of the characters who looks a little confused and says in a low voice, “Harry, innit’?” Niall looks at him and chuckles.

“You two lads, first time here?” the lady at the counter says. She has glasses with thick frames on.

“Yes.” Niall says. “Nice shop, ain’t it Zayn?”

“Mmhmm.”

They go through some pages. Niall lets go of Zayn’s hand to get out his little Spain purse, and Zayn hugs his waist from behind him.

“Date?” she asks, allowing doubt.

It’s not the _first_ time people who didn’t know them suspected them as boyfriends, but it’s the first time after the whole napkin incident, so Niall sputters, caught off-guard.

Zayn hums again, hands falling low on his hips to imply it. Niall forces out a laugh that sounds like a bark. It doesn’t get any reaction from him because he’s too absorbed in the colored pictures on the counter.

He forgets about it again. The lady calls out when Zayn opens the door to leave, “Have fun.” He nods at her and throws an arm around his shoulders.

He doesn't think much of it. Zayn’s smiling at him later with his hand on his cheek, listening to Niall tell him about one time back in Ireland when his family went boating and his cousin jumped off the boat as a dare. It's a tragic tale, but Zayn just keeps smiling.

“You seem happy.” Niall says.

“We don’t get to have ice cream together in a shop, d’we?” Zayn asks. He puts a very small amount in his mouth, eating slowly. “S’nice, is all.”

Niall smiles back, his heart fond. Zayn is perfect. He loves people who can tell him how important things are, mostly because he can’t figure them out until they do. He opens his mouth when Zayn offers him a spoon. It’s good, a mix of chocolate and raspberry with some crunchiness that he guesses is butterscotch.

“You two look good together.” the waitress behind the bar tells them while she wipes the granite beneath them. Zayn laughs; Niall freezes. It’s like his mouth becomes paralyzed, and it’s too sudden this time. Zayn stops laughing.

“Niall.” he says.

“Um.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “No. Actually, we’re not together.” He peeks up at the waitress, who looks flabbergasted. He doesn’t tell her how it’s rude to judge people she doesn’t know, because Zayn’s staring blankly at him, his spoon in the air between them.

“Sorry!” she says, because she can’t say anything else. The damage has been done. “Would you like a smoothie? For free?” 

They both don’t say anything. She mumbles that she's going to get the bill. Zayn sets the spoon down and Niall folds his arms on the slab.

 

 

The silence is terrible when they walk back up the steep hill to where the rest of the boys are. Niall texts Harry that they’re on their way, and when he puts his phone back in his pocket, he notices Zayn biting his lip.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Not really.” Zayn replies. Niall stares at the cut out path in front. It's brown and has rocks.

“We’re not together.” he defends in a voice that makes him sound like a pining frog.

“You’re right.” he says.

The line feels like a break-up, which is absurd. Niall doesn’t walk faster when Zayn does; he slows down and calls out, “ _Hey_.”

Zayn doesn’t stop, and he knows he’ll forget this happened in an hour so he folds his arms and comes to a halt. Sure enough, Zayn risks a glance over his shoulder and Niall drops his hands. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I corrected her.”

Zayn turns completely at that. “It’s cool.” he says, tiptoeing backwards, his hands in fists at his sides. He even appears graceful stumbling on a rock jutting out. “I understand. Not like this hasn’t happened before.”

It hits Niall that Zayn actually thinks he's implying he's not great enough to be his boyfriend, which in all universes has to be absurd and should not, in any way, still be in his mind because Zayn is the best, the actual best, the engraved definition. He walks fast enough for him to catch up to him and pulls at Zayn’s cuffs. Zayn huffs, but lets Niall pull him closer, closer, closer, and even though there's a chance she's still his girlfriend or his fiancée, he needs to come clean before he goes back to being the Nialler who forgets how much Zayn's existence makes his day better.

He’s not even dignifying him with a look until Niall mouths his name, not ready to listen until he drags it out and inhales.

“Let’s go back.” he says, his throat dry. The tips of their noses knock together; Zayn still doesn't move. “Tell her I'm in love with you.”

Zayn laughs softly, his gaze lowering. “Right.”

It’s cold and the dark starts pushing away the light. Niall holds Zayn’s hips, needs him to hear him.

“No, let’s tell her." He's started, and he knows he won't stop. "Let’s start with how I haven’t yet acknowledged how I think about you every breathing second because we don’t realize what our body involuntarily does, and that every day I wake up with you I turn away because I feel like I’m intruding on someone else’s moment. That talking to you, being with you, it makes me feel better. And that even though I’m completely gone for you, even though it’s something I just live with and don’t plan on disturbing you with, it’s okay for her to assume we are, in fact, together.”

He chokes on the last word, crosses his eyebrows at the ground because somewhere in the middle of all that he had to duck his head, and swallows around the lump in his throat. He can’t look at Zayn but he wants to know what he's thinking, and he can’t have both so he decides that the world is very unfair.

“Let’s tell her.” he says, “because – because if we were together I’d really shout it across the town, the whole world, but we’re not.”

"Niall." Zayn finally says. It makes him jerk with the painful realization that while Niall's touching him everywhere, Zayn's hands are still at his sides. He lets go all at once, feels the cold of Zayn not being there disturbingly chilling. Zayn steps towards him, reaching out for - a hug? A kiss? Niall laughs, fake, which probably looks pitiful, and sidesteps it. He's never done that, but he's also never confessed his undying love for his band mate, and everything is so awkward, with Zayn staying silent and him waiting. His brain works then, for once, like Zayn's silence cranked up the accelerator.

He thinks, _fuck_.


End file.
